You either die a hero
by SMakarov
Summary: ...or live long enough to see yourself become the villain. After all that he'd been put through, Jason thinks the least he deserves is death. ((Slight trigger warning for thoughts of suicide. Rated T for moderate swearing and mild violence.)) Please read and review!


**Disclaimer: I own don't own any characters.**

**A/N: A oneshot about Jason offering a..._different_ perspective onto why he (almost) always leaves the BatCave unannounced. **

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_You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain._

He doesn't know how he knows it – probably from before his time as a resurrected mummy – but Jason thinks that is the one thing in the world that he loves (well, there's Dick and – never mind).

It's kind of an explanation. An excuse. For why he turned out like this. You can't be a hero forever. Screw whoever who said 'Heroes never die.' They die, they burn, they cease to exist. It's happened so many times. So many heroic souls extinguished in the line of duty. But the one thing they never said was how those are the lucky ones. The ones that get to die a hero, and stay dead.

They don't have to watch themselves molt and wither and shed their reddish-brown feathers and lose their childlikeness. They don't have to watch themselves get churned out by the dirty, twisted, cruel and ugly dungheap of a world because they _couldn't_ die.

After all that he'd been put through, Jason thinks the least he deserves is death. A final blow of the whistle. A last breath. A conclusion to a wretched story.

Which is why he gladly sucks in that finishing breath as his body hits the cold ground.

(Everyone thinks he's a daredevil – or extremely conceited – and that's why he doesn't like to wear a bulletproof vest when he goes out for patrol sometimes. Only Jason knows it's because he hopes.)

He hears shouts and yells and _that sounded like Grayson. Ah, the Golden boy. Always trying to make sure everybody stays alive. Sorry, big bro. Can't do it this time. Don't want to. _

Jason tries to stop hearing, and it almost works, thanks to all the blood in his ears. Then he hears a small note. Another one. And again. He frowns, and it doesn't take him longer than a second to recognize the tune.

It's Hey Jude. The song Catherine Todd used to sing to him as a lullaby because she loved it (at least before she turned into a waste). Jason hears her voice picking up the words, and he loves it so much.

_And any time you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain  
Don't carry the world upon your shoulder  
For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool  
By making his world a little colder_

Red starts seeping into his vision, but he doesn't care. Everything starts getting colder, but he doesn't care. Is someone moving his body? He doesn't care.

_He's finally going to be gone for good. And he's leaving like he always wanted to. Taking the bullet for someone. Saving a life. Being a hero. _

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You know how they always say 'all of a sudden, everything went dark.' whenever someone dies? Well it's not like that. Not always. I knew exactly when the lights were going to go out. I was counting down for it. And when I hit 1, darkness swirled around me and enveloped me into its caring embrace. Whoever said death was cold was right, but they failed to mention that _cold is nice._

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He knew something was wrong the moment he started…existing again. He couldn't hear his mother's voice, he couldn't hear his lullaby, he couldn't hear that goddamn song that he wanted to hear –

All he heard was the continuous, monotonous beeping of an ECG. And he felt something cold under him this time too but it wasn't _nice cold_.

Anger and aggression started fueling through him, and soon, he had enough adrenaline pumping to start moving.

Jason's eyelids flew open as he got up.

There were a few moments of silence before he lost it.

He ripped the wires stuck to his body, he pushed away from the metal bed, he shoved the equipment backwards – but none of the ruckus satisfied him.

Jason was back in the world of the living, he was back in _fucking _Gotham, he was back in the _fucking _BatCave.

A loud yell ripped out of his throat and Jason sunk to his knees, his fists full of his hair.

_Why? Why?! WHY DON'T I GET A BREAK? WHY CAN'T I?! I DESERVE IT! I DESERVE DEATH! I. GIVE. UP!_

A soft sob escapes his lips. He bits down on them, as if issuing a threat.

Jason doesn't know how long he stays in that position, but eventually he gets up (_Can't have anyone walk in on me like this._).

He falls into the waking-up-in-the-BatCave-after-a-near-death-experience routine.

He grabs a change of clothes, puts them on, packs his bloodied and grimy ones into a bag, borrows one of Dick's helmets (Jason tells himself he'll return it. Eventually. Although it's not as if he cares.), and leaves on one of the motorcycles.

They've got no one to blame but themselves for his state.

_You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain._

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**Please review! Please! PLEASE! :D**


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